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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495670">The Burning House</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Fine_Piece/pseuds/A_Fine_Piece'>A_Fine_Piece</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Thin Red Line [48]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bleach</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Concubinage, F/M, Mistakes, Nobility, Plotty, Prostitution, Scheming</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:13:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495670</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Fine_Piece/pseuds/A_Fine_Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>[Set prior to the beginning of the series]  The brothel mistress confronts Hisana about her numerous mistakes involving the Kuchiki family and the rest of the nobility.  Hisana considers what Ginrei Kuchiki's offer entails.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kuchiki Byakuya/Kuchiki Hisana</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Thin Red Line [48]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/93946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Burning House</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hisana wakes from a heavy slumber to the cracking of wood against knuckle.  Not just any knuckle.  <em>Mistress’s.</em></p><p>Instinctively, adrenaline floods her, innervating every muscle, every fiber, every sinew.  She snaps up, bleary-eyed, hair matted against her face.  Sweat slicks her chest and back.</p><p>“Hisana!” the woman nearly <em>sings</em>.</p><p>Hisana blinks.  Once.  Twice.  Three times.</p><p>Mistress is not one prone to <em>singing</em>, and, judging from Shunsho’s advice late last night, Mistress was reputedly <em>not</em> pleased with Hisana’s performance at the kabuki theater. </p><p>“Um, yes?” answers Hisana, hesitantly, heart skittering at the prospect of having to muster some semblance of <em>dignity</em> in her sleep-drunken state.</p><p>“May I enter?”</p><p><em>Since when did Mistress take to asking permission for . . . anything?  </em>Hisana cups her head forehead in her hand.  Her brain <em>throbs</em>. </p><p>“Yes?” the answer isn’t meant as a question, but it strikes Hisana as so intensely <em>odd</em>, she has no other response for it.</p><p>Mistress does not spare a second, thrusting the door away, she enters.  Her lips are stretched into a wide, feline grin.  A grin that takes up so much space on her face that it forces her eyes closed.  “I am so proud of you, you clever girl!”</p><p>Hisana glances behind her, then to the window.  Is she dreaming?  Is there another <em>Hisana</em> here?  <em>What is happening?!</em> </p><p>“Your schedule is completely booked.  No, <em>overflowing </em>with clients!  All the girls are booked, in fact!”</p><p>Hisana rubs her eyes with the heel of her palm.  “What?”</p><p>Mistress takes Hisana’s face in her hands and pats her cheek.  “Brilliant girl.  You have brought the house so much honor with your dance.”</p><p>“I thought you hated it.”  Hisana lets out a yawn between her words.</p><p>“<em>Hated it?”</em> Mistress echoes, astonished.  “No, no, no,” she continues, “I was taken by surprised.  I was <em>worried.  Worried about you</em>,” she puts a great deal of emphasis on the last word before taking a seat on the edge of Hisana’s futon.</p><p>Hisana watches her skeptically, brows hanging low over wary eyes.  “What is the meaning behind this?”</p><p>Mistress smiles, dreamily.  “Money.”</p><p>Obviously.  “Whose money?”</p><p>“Oh,” Mistress perks up, as if remembering something, “your schedule is filled for a <em>year</em>.  There almost isn’t enough time in the day for all the arranged appointments.  Isn’t that exciting?”</p><p>Dancing through Mistress’s mind are coins, likely stacked, in towers, <em>many </em>towers.  Hisana frowns.  “I take it you want me to go through the list of interested clients?”</p><p>“Yes, of, course.”  Mistress waves the obvious task away, like a bad stench.  “I did want to ask about one rumor I heard last night, <em>though</em>.”  Her voice hardens on the last syllable.</p><p>Hisana waits and watches Mistress carefully, holding her breath.  Last night was filled with so <em>many</em> miniature disasters that could’ve drawn Mistress’s attention:  Byakuya’s betrothed discovering them in an intimate moment.  Why Hisana had been dressed in three separate kimono, two of which had been delivered to the House at different times last night.  Making a spectacle of her romance with Byakuya in her dance.  Ginrei bringing her to the House amid a torrent.</p><p>The last one she braces for, as it is the most obvious.  It’s also the one that scares her the most.</p><p>“The Lord Captain Kuchiki has requested to take tea with you next month,” Mistress observes, her gaze fixing Hisana.  The lines in her forehead deepen, “Did something happen after the dance?  One of the guards swears he saw you arrive last night in a Kuchiki litter.”</p><p>Hisana inhales a sharp breath.  “That’s true.  It was storming, and the Captain offered me shelter.”</p><p>“Did he say anything to you, Hisana?”</p><p>Hisana’s chin lifts at the question.  She isn’t quite sure what concern her Mistress is trying to quash with this inquiry.  Maybe Mistress fears the Kuchiki will withdraw their financial support and choose another house, another courtesan.  This possibility hung over Hisana like the Sword of Damocles when she climbed into the palanquin last night.  Trapped next to a man who she feared more than any other client she has ever entertained, she waited with bated breath for him to officially divest his interests in her. </p><p>Ginrei, however, never made any such intentions known.  The ride was a quiet one.  Until the end.  The conversation plays in her mind:</p><p>
  <em>“You know my grandson is affianced.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I assumed as much.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He has not confessed this to you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, milord.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There are certain arrangements—”</em>
</p><p>Her heart squeezes hard at the memory.  A loud thunderclap drowned out the last of his words.  Although, it was possible the sentence as she remembers had been a completed one. </p><p>“He told me of Lord Byakuya Kuchiki’s engagement,” decides Hisana.</p><p>Mistress’s head lifts.  “Yes, of course.  The young Kuchiki lord’s betrothal to Suiko is all anyone can talk about.  Did he say anything else?”</p><p>Hisana doesn’t want to answer, and she considers what advantage she might forfeit if she mentions the possibility of “other arrangements.” The problem with assessing advantages and disadvantages proves to be that Hisana doesn’t understand what he was referring to.  Part of her takes—perhaps mistakenly so—some comfort in the fact that the Kuchiki won’t pull their support completely if their clan leader felt the need to raise the prospect of “other arrangements.” </p><p>Maybe Mistress would better understand his meaning.  Maybe there was no advantage in holding this information back.</p><p>“He mentioned other arrangements could be made.  I didn’t understand his meaning, and, before I could inquire further, we had arrived at the House.”</p><p>“Inquire further?” Mistress gasps and then smacks her folded fan hard against Hisana’s arm, “One does not simply ask the Lord Kuchiki follow-up questions!  He is an important man of an important family and an important unit.  He hasn’t time to countenance imbeciles.”</p><p>Hisana shrinks slightly at this.  “Well, I didn’t ask him anything.  I acted like I understood his meaning well.”</p><p>Mistress sucks in a sharp breath, one that makes a wet whistle.  “Good,” she exhales. </p><p>“What did he mean?”</p><p>Mistress’s gaze skitters across the floor, and her lips pull into a taut, compact line.  Hisana can tell that she doesn’t like the taste of the answer.  It sours in her mouth, like bitter acid.  “Well,” she says through a grimace, “it could be a few things.”  She frowns.</p><p>“All bad, I take it?” teases Hisana.</p><p>Mistress shakes her head.  “None bad.  For <em>you</em>.” </p><p>“I’m not sure about that,” Hisana says softly, trying her hardest to tame the fear from her voice.  “Would they pull their sponsorship from me?”</p><p>Mistress inclines her head and sighs.  Her face goes blank for a mere second, but when Mistress’s gaze finds Hisana again, there is a perceptible shift in the woman’s demeanor.  Her veil of pompous superiority lifts, and her brows crinkle together.  “I know you think I’m an avaricious bitch, because, well, <em>I am</em>.  But, sometimes I care, Hisana.  About you.  About Sakuran.  About Ohana.  About the little sisters.  Honestly, sometimes, I think I care <em>too much</em>,” she adds with a wry flourish.</p><p>Hisana laughs.</p><p>“I don’t think the Kuchiki will pull their funding from either the House or you.  They’re pretentious, pompous, overly concerned with status and appearances, <em>but</em> they are no fools.  Especially given that you’re a <em>lucrative </em>investment.”</p><p>Hisana shifts back a little on her futon.  She assumes she brings money to the House, both through her patrons and their gifts, which are all immediately assigned as inventory belonging to the house, and through generating interest in the House, itself.  Not all men can afford her price, but they may be able to afford the price of a younger courtesan.  Hisana has never wanted or needed to take a look at the books.  She doesn’t even <em>know</em> her price.  She only knows her expenses, a little tally that adds up each month.  Food.  Rent. Bedding. Clothing.  Shoes.  Hair. Makeup.  The costs of her attendants and their living expenses.</p><p>To hear that she is not a burden, that she is <em>lucrative</em>, comes as a shock.</p><p>“Close your mouth, Hisana.  It’s unbecoming.”  Mistress smacks Hisana’s arm again with her fan.  “Yes, I took tea with Lady Masuyo Kuchiki a few weeks ago, shortly before the betrothal between Byakuya Kuchiki and Suiko Heishi was announced—”</p><p>“You took tea with the Kuchiki matriarch?” interrupts Hisana, disbelieving what she heard.</p><p>“Yes.  Ginrei Kuchiki doesn’t pore over the family’s holdings, and, since he chose not to re-marry after the death of his wife, that responsibility falls to his daughter.”  </p><p>Hisana is well-aware of Masuyo, and the iron-grip she keeps on the family’s affairs.  Lord Byakuya has regaled her with many a lively story about his aunt and his numerous cousins, and, while Hisana has never been introduced to any of them, she imagines them like a child imagines the wicked step-siblings and step-mothers that regularly appear in fairytales. </p><p>“As I was saying,” again, another <em>thwap </em>to the arm from Mistress’s fan, “I had tea with Lady Kuchiki, who took the time out of her busy schedule to inform me of her nephew’s impending nuptials—”</p><p>Hisana’s heart jumps in her chest.  “Why?”  </p><p>Mistress tilts her head to the side.  A <em>knowing</em> tilt.  “To assure me that they had no plans of divesting their interest of you or the House.  Apparently, the profits they make from you is financing a revitalization project in the Seireitei until it gets off the ground.”</p><p>“Why did they feel they needed to assure you?  Most lords marry other nobles, and their houses continue funding their investments in the Floating World.” </p><p>Mistress nods approvingly at Hisana’s question.  “The family is aware of Byakuya’s,” she pauses and frowns, as if the words that ring in her head sound unappealing, “well, his <em>fondness </em>for you.”</p><p>Hisana blanches.  “Wha—” she begins defensively.</p><p>“Apparently, he made a <em>scene</em> at a family event when he learned of their investments in the Peony House.  A scene quickly turned into a row when it came out that his family also had a stake in <em>you.  </em>According to Lady Kuchiki, it was sordid, untoward, and all things very unpleasant.”  Mistress reflexively jerks open her fan and flutters it near her face.</p><p>So there it is:  How Byakuya learned of the Kuchiki’s sponsorship.  Hisana always assumed he knew.  He was the one who was supposed to claim her, to be her first client.  But, he didn’t.  For a long time, she assumed something was lacking in her.  Something she couldn’t cure.  Only much later did she realize that Byakuya Kuchiki likely would never touch her while paying for her time.  He didn’t want her to feel obligated to ply him with unearned intimacy.  He never communicated those feelings to her with words, only actions.</p><p>Byakuya’s dereliction as her first client, however, put the House in the awkward position of either selling Hisana’s <em>mizuage</em> again or allowing the family to provide another first.  The family chose the latter, most probably to spare the reputation of the men of their line, Byakuya’s included.</p><p>“So, don’t worry, little Hisana,” says Mistress, nudging her elbow into the bone of Hisana’s arm, “you’re paying for their vanity project in the Seireitei!  You’re adding value to rich people’s portfolios!”</p><p>“You say that like it’s something to be proud of.”</p><p>“Well,” Mistress purses her lips, “it’s not nothing.  It’s protection, at the very least.”</p><p>“Protection for now.”</p><p>The words go unchallenged by Mistress, who stares pensively into the silk of Hisana’s bedding. </p><p>“So, if they aren’t divesting themselves of me, what is this arrangement Lord Kuchiki spoke of?”</p><p>Mistress fiddles with her fan.  Her lips sloping deeper into a frown.  “Plans made in the alternative,” she says cryptically.</p><p>“Like a Plan B?”</p><p>“Like a Plan B,” says Mistress.  “I don’t know for certain.  Some families allow the men to take concubines.”</p><p>An icy chill blasts through Hisana, numbing her limbs.  “Concubinage?  What an unhappy arrangement.”</p><p>Mistress sneaks a quick sidelong glimpse and scoffs.  “Not necessarily.  Some wives only want the status and security of marriage and encourage their Lords’ predilections.  Like Lord Konoe’s wife.”</p><p>Hisana’s gaze flits to Mistress.  An uneasiness creeps into the lines of her face.  An uneasiness that she cannot master.</p><p>“Some concubines don’t love the Lord either, and would rather be forgotten novelties, secure in their relative freedom and grand mansions.”  Mistress grins slightly.  “The key ingredient for harmony, of course, is the absence of feminine <em>fondness</em> for their Lords.”</p><p>Hisana shivers a little, understanding her misstep in this instance.  She exposed her heart by judging such an arrangement with the Kuchiki to be an unhappy one.  If the families had been reversed—if it was the Konoe considering the offer of concubinage—Hisana would not have pre-judged it.  It would be neutral.  Maybe preferable.  Tadahiro would surely forget about her.  She would be a little bird in a gilded cage with bars spaced wide enough to fly out of if left unobserved. </p><p>“Lady Suiko appears to be ardently infatuated with Lord Byakuya,” Hisana recovers, tucking a tress of hair behind her ear.  “I pity any woman stupid enough to become his concubine.”</p><p>Mistress cocks her head to the side, like a bird-of-prey tracking its quarry through the brush.  “Yes, Lady Suiko would be an ill-suited third in a shadow marriage.”</p><p>Hisana’s brows knit together at this.  “Shadow marriage?”</p><p>Mistress nods, unhappily.  “A marriage where the secondary wife wields greater influence than the primary wife.  One of several complications if concubinage is the arrangement Ginrei Kuchiki is considering.”</p><p>“What’s the <em>other </em>complication?”</p><p>Mistress stares at Hisana in slack-jawed mortification.  “Love really does turn otherwise clever people into blithering idiots.”</p><p>Hisana opens her mouth to protest, but Mistress cuts her off with a wave of her hand.</p><p>“Honestly, it amazes me each time to see otherwise intelligent, cunning souls turn into puddles of abject idiocy when they get the merest whiff of <em>fondness</em>.”  Mistress then glares at Hisana.  “All evening and morning, I have worked to correct your <em>numerous</em> mistakes from last night.  You do not even know the extent that I have suffered the tears of men—of <em>grown men</em>—who have thrown themselves at my feet, demanding to know if your spirited performance last night betrayed your true heart. </p><p>“They also wondered after the meaning of your <em>three</em> kimono, mused about the sudden shifts and changes of your hair and hairpins.  Asked why your jade hairpin was placed in Suiko’s hair half-way through the kimono exhibit.”</p><p>Mistress pauses for a second to catch her breath.  “Why <em>was</em> your jade hairpin in Suiko’s hair, Hisana?”</p><p>Hisana sits petrified.  Who the <em>hell</em> is paying that much attention to her? </p><p>“Um,” she mumbles, caught and unsure of what to do.  While Hisana loves a good feign or prevarication, she has a sinking feeling that lying her way out of this will only make things worse. “Byakuya and I,” she begins, only to be interrupted by the loud <em>disapproving </em>sigh that erupts from Mistress’s mouth. </p><p>Mistress shakes her head, having clearly heard enough to understand the context.  “Idiots!  Blithering, stinking idiots.  Well, I guess this explains Lady Heishi’s request for <em>emergency tea</em> this morning.”</p><p>“Emergency tea?” Hisana chortles slightly at this.  “Did they run out?”</p><p>Mistress does not take Hisana’s light ribbing in stride.  Instead, she glowers.  Eyes narrowed.  Lips pressed together so hard the outline of her mouth turns white.  “No, Hisana.  No.  They want to chastise <em>you</em>, interrogate <em>you</em>, tell you to cut any and all ties with Byakuya Kuchiki.  Break his heart and dance in the ashes of it when you’re through so that he might be a decent husband for their daughter.”</p><p>Hisana lowers her head at this.  Shame hits her hard and fast.  Worse yet is the <em>guilt</em>.</p><p>“If you were smart, you would do exactly that.  As long as Ginrei Kuchiki and Masuyo Kuchiki are at the helm, you’re protected.  I also doubt Byakuya Kuchiki, even scorned, would pull funding once he assumes power.  Money is money, after all.  Vanity projects need financing, and financing with zero interest is the best kind.”</p><p>Hisana nods, trying her hardest to shove her ego aside.  Mistress isn’t wrong.  Hisana is only a means to an end for her investors and her patrons. “You mentioned another complication to the arrangement Lord Kuchiki may be considering.  What complication is that?”  Hisana might love a good prevacation, but Mistress turns begging a question into a <em>performance</em>, which is no doubt what she was trying to do just moments ago.</p><p>“Oh, yes,” Mistress mutters, annoyed, “how could I forget?  That other complication would be <em>Tadahiro Konoe</em>, Hisana.”</p><p>“Tadahiro?”</p><p>Mistress lets out a hoarse chuckle.  “Yes.  You know, Lord Konoe.  The current head of one of the Five Noble Houses.  The man who, in one night, gifted two kimono worth the sum of three mansions each to <em>you</em>.  I imagine he poses a <em>slight</em> complication to any arrangement involving you that the Kuchiki may be considering.”  </p><p>Hisana shakes her head, rejecting the implication.  “This is only a game to Tadahiro.”</p><p>Mistress pulls her chin down.  The light in her eyes squelch.  “If it’s a game to him, Hisana, then it’s one he wants to win.  I doubt the Kuchiki are willing to stake a war between their clans on a silly courtesan who needs her dutiful, clever Auntie to put out all the fires she decided to start on one night.”</p><p>“You don’t think it’s a game.”  Perceptive, Hisana hears the equivocation in Mistress’s words.</p><p>“I don’t think it’s <em>just</em> a game to him, Hisana.  A man does not gift a woman kimono worth that sum of money who isn’t <em>fond</em> of her.  No, that sort of recklessness is what idiots in love do.” </p><p>Mistress pauses a moment to search Hisana.  “I understand your hesitation about Tadahiro.  He is cunning, capricious, and, prone to <em>cruelty</em>.  But, all the high nobles are <em>cruel</em>, even the man you seem hell-bent on burning down my house over.  The stories about Byakuya Kuchiki and his treatment of some of the court ladies—even the <em>nicer </em>court ladies—would freeze your blood. </p><p>“These men are rich, don’t understand the meaning of the word ‘no,’ and stand outside the shadow of the law.  They are peerless, powerful, and, some of them take their pleasure at torturing others.  Tadahiro may be cruel at times, but he isn’t a true sadist.  Consider yourself lucky to have the patrons you have, and don’t--”  Mistress stops herself.  Her lips tremble, as if she is considering imparting something heart-felt, a piece of herself, to Hisana. </p><p>“And, don’t start fires when you’re still inside the house,” Mistress adds, locking eyes with Hisana.</p><p>Hisana nods her head.  She knows.  She knows there are far worse men to serve, even on days when it doesn’t feel that way.  “I will make it up to you, Mistress.  I swear.”</p><p>“I know you will.”</p>
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